


Second Chance to Make a Good First Impression

by ant5b



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 2018), Disney Duck Universe, DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), PKNA - Paperinik New Adventures
Genre: AU, Alien Invasion, Crossover, DW is a petty bastard no matter what version he is, Fenton we're all delighted to have you, Injury, Minor Violence, Secret Identity, Set during/post season 2 finale, Violence, cameo by Gibbous and Lunaris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 08:43:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20306674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ant5b/pseuds/ant5b
Summary: “So,” Drake says, “aliens, huh?”Fenton chuckles weakly. “I have to admit, it’s not where I saw the night going.”





	Second Chance to Make a Good First Impression

Being Darkwing Duck means expecting a certain amount of weirdness in his life, but this goes beyond the pale. 

There’s fighting your former idol turned megalomaniacal supervillain, for starters, and run of the mill thugs angling for stardom with an off-putting clown gimmick. He’s fought half a dozen mad scientists armed with weather control technology, and seriously, what is  _ up  _ with that? He’s called in to join forces with Launchpad’s family and Gizmoduck, who’s just as insufferable as Drake expected, against an assemblage of Duckburg’s worst villains, duking it out on the beach in a blaze of chaotic glory. 

But that battle isn’t even over before something worse, something  _ weirder _ , comes along in the form of an alien invasion. 

Gold ships descend from the heavens and blue, stony-skinned beings flood the beach, wielding guns that fire paralyzing blasts of electricity. They attack indiscriminately, targeting hero and villain alike. Drake knocks out a handful of invaders, just in time to watch Ma Beagle and some of her ilk struck by an errant blast. 

Drake hears Launchpad cry out and he whirls around, searching desperately for his partner amidst the chaos of the beach. He spots Launchpad defending Dr. Gearloose’s unconscious body against an invader. The scientist’s little lightbulb invention is trying and failing to drag him to safety. 

Launchpad is holding his own against the lone invader, but there are more encroaching on him and Drake knows he’s too far away to be of any help. He runs anyway, slipping on the cold sand, tossing smoke bombs as he goes to give others cover and a chance to escape. Drake is still too far away when Gizmoduck appears, speeding out in front of Launchpad and taking the full brunt of a blast that was intended for him. 

While others simply drop, immobilized, when they’re hit, the blast  _ does  _ something to the suit. Electricity arcs across it, the joins sparking, and Gizmoduck convulses. His beak opens in a strangled scream and Drake feels genuine fear. He sprints toward them, decking one invader and knocking the feet out from under another, but he doesn’t make it to Gizmoduck and Launchpad before he’s struck right between his shoulder blades and he knows nothing more. 

  
  


Drake walks up alone in a holding cell of some sort, though he has no idea where. The walls are cinder block, doorless and windowless, and the white lights are buzzing and harsh. He tamps down the initial fears of alien abduction when he recognizes air vents and coffee stains on the floor, but for all he knows he’s could be in Duckburg or Timbuktu. 

Some unknown amount of time later, he doesn’t exactly have a watch, the wall across from him simply ceases to exist. The space left behind is cookie cutter in its perfect square shape, and the hallway beyond is dark. Drake jumps to his feet and runs for the hole in the wall, but he’s nearly bowled over by the body that’s tossed in. Drake stumbles to catch them, taking in their brown feathers and gangly frame at a glance, before jerking his gaze back to their only way out. 

For a brief moment he catches a glimpse of a pair of stony-skinned invaders. The one who threw the duck into Drake’s cell is portly and short, his expression one of forced indifference that does little to hide the fear, uncertainty, and shame that hover just beneath. In contrast, the invader beside him is gargantuan in stature and presence, the top half of his face cast into shadow by his helmet’s visor. He meets Drake’s gaze and smiles, his own strange, dark eyes glittering in the darkness with a malice he doesn’t try to conceal. 

The invaders vanish in an instant as the wall reappears, as real and solid as it was seconds ago. 

The stranger in Drake’s arms groans, perhaps not as unconscious as he appears. 

Drake sets him down in the recovery position, but holds onto his shoulder in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture. The last thing he needs, on top of being trapped by aliens in an inescapable room, is a panicking civilian on his hands. 

Now that Drake actually has time to look at the guy, he recognizes him as Dr. Gearloose’s assistant, and Launchpad’s friend. Drake had only seen him briefly amidst the tumult that was the mansion as they planned for the confrontation on the beach that turned into so much more. He’d been a bundle of shaky nerves then, following in Dr. Gearloose’s wake as the scientist ranted at him about modifications to the Gizmosuit. Drake thinks his name is Fergus, or Ferdinand something.

He’s very still now, a disconcerting contrast to when Drake last saw him. Bruises decorate his body in a colorful mosaic, not that Drake looks any better, but there are burn marks too, strange symmetrical lines of raised skin, like someone who’s been hit by lightning. Coupled with the hair that hangs limply on his forehead, he looks very young and it twists Drake up inside. Why they would incapacitate someone to this extent, especially one so clearly harmless, is beyond him. 

Drake shakes Federico’s shoulder, because if he wants to get out of a high tech alien prison he could probably use the help of someone who knows high tech stuff. 

Francisco, it’s definitely Francisco, groans again.

“ _ Cinco minutos m _ _ ás _ _ , M’ma,”  _ he mutters plaintively. 

“Sorry, sonny, I don’t think that’s gonna fly,” Drake replies wryly, pulling his hand away.

Felipe’s eyes blink open, and he squints in the harshness of the bright room. “What the..?” he mumbles. “Where are— _ Darkwing Duck?” _

“In the flesh,” Drake grimaces, falling out of his crouch to plop down on the ground. “Wish we could’ve met again under better circumstances, Fred—Floy—”

Franco turns so he ends up lying on his back, faceup. The look he fixes Drake with is far too incredulous for a guy who was unconscious a few seconds ago. 

“ _ Fenton _ ,” he says. 

“Right,” Drake replies. 

There’s a strange humming sound coming from where the wall vanished, faint enough that it could be easy to ignore, or impossible to do so. It’s not unlike the sound of a gnat, droning vaguely in the distance, but considering where he is, he knows how unlikely that is. At this rate, it’s probably the sound of whatever hidden forcefield put the wall back in place. 

“So,” Drake says, “aliens, huh?”

Fenton chuckles weakly. “I have to admit, it’s not where I saw the night going.”

“You’re telling me,” Drake grunts, heaving himself to his feet. He walks over to where the wall vanished and reappeared, laying his hands flat across it. He feels along the stone, looking for a hidden mechanism or clasp, but the cinder block is solid and cool beneath his fingers just like the real thing. But there’s a faint tingling sensation that makes his feathers stand on end, along like there’s electricity running through the wall. 

“Hey, you’re a scientist,” Drake comments over his shoulder, “what you make of a magical sci-fi door?”

“Well, is it magical or is it sci-fi?” Fenton replies, but he sounds  _ off _ , sluggish, almost like he’s drunk. 

Drake whirls back around to see that Fenton hasn’t moved from his spot on the floor, but his eyes are at half mast and he looks on the brink of falling asleep. He rushes back over to his side. 

“You can’t sleep yet, kid, I need you to stay awake,” Drake says sternly, slipping into what Launchpad calls his ‘hero voice.’ 

Fenton snorts. “How old do you think I am?” he retorts dully. 

“Old enough to know you probably have a head injury and shouldn’t be falling asleep,” Drake counters. 

Fenton groans, but is already in the process of trying to claw himself into a seated position. Drake steadies him with a hand on his shoulder. 

Somehow he looks even worse now, dark bruises under his eyes giving the impression of someone who’s been punched repeatedly in the face. In addition to his burns, even his yellow dress shirt is slightly singed, and his tie is missing entirely. 

“Did they do this to you?” Drake asks quietly, as rage simmers low and hot in his gut. Fenton looks like he could barely withstand a stiff breeze, even before he was beaten within an inch of his life, and they didn’t even  _ touch  _ Drake. 

“Huh?” Fenton says, as if barely noticing the state he’s in. “Oh, no! No, I was-I was wearing a piece of-of experimental tech Dr. Gearloose and I have been working on, and it overloaded when the aliens shot me.” 

His eyes widen, and Drake stiffens in alarm. Fenton doesn’t seem to notice as he presses his palm against his forehead. “Aliens exist. There’s an alien invasion going on.”

“Thanks for tuning in,” Drake says. “Now do you want to help me figure out how to open this secret alien door?”

The wall behind Drake disappears. 

He jerks around with a yelp, clumsy in his shock. 

“You work quick,” he says numbly. 

“Thanks,” Fenton replies, sounding equally shocked. 

“What’re you waiting for? An invitation?” a new voice demands, and a duck steps into view on the other side of the wall that neither Drake nor anybody else has seen in over a decade. He’s not particularly tall, but his red, blue, and black suit and cape create powerful lines that height cannot hinder. His expression is screwed up in a scowl, and his mask is missing, but his identity is unmistakable. 

_ “Duck Avenger?”  _ Drake gapes. 

_ “Donald Duck?”  _ Fenton exclaims, aghast. 

“Who?” 

“Mr. McDuck’s nephew,” Fenton gasps, even as the Duck Avenger’s scowl deepens. Fenton struggles to his feet, and Drake helps him up with an arm around his waist. “You’ve been missing for  _ months _ . He had me searching for you, but I was never able to find—”

An invader steps out from behind the Duck Avenger, and Drake forgets about the living legend for a moment to reach for a gas gun he doesn’t have. 

The Duck Avenger, noticing Drake’s alarm, follows his line of sight and glances behind him. His lack of reaction at the invader, easily double any of them in height, muscular and decked in gold, is more telling than his next words. 

“Oh, don’t worry she’s with me.”

The invader sneers at them, before turning to the Duck Avenger with her expression barely tamed. “We found the heroes like you wanted, Avenger. We need to hurry if we want to have even the slimmest chance of stopping the general.”

“Sorry,  _ heroes _ ?” Drake repeats, “plural?”

The Duck Avenger looks at Fenton expectantly, amusement curling his beak. 

Fenton sags against Drake’s side, looking dismayed. “Oh, come on!” he insists, “just let me have this.”

The Duck Avenger shrugs. “Fair’s fair.” 

“You aren’t even wearing a mask!”

The invader groans, a long, drawn-out sound that lasts a handful of seconds. “You are infuriating. Here, Robot Duck,” she says, tossing Fenton one of the gold ray guns. He scrambles to catch it one handed. 

“You look awful,” she continues. “At least now you won’t be so useless.” 

“Thanks?” 

She turns back to the Duck Avenger. “I’ll be at the ship. You have five keltons before I leave you all behind.”

“You got it, Bright Eyes,” he replies as she stomps away. 

“Robot Duck?” Drake mutters, “what did she…” 

Fenton is giving him an apologetic grin when he meets his eyes. “I was hoping to make a better first impression this time around,” he says. 

Drake blinks. Something in his mind clicks into place, a sense of rightness settling over him. 

“Gizmoduck,” he says, his tone colorless with shock. 

There is an alien armada hanging over their heads. The Duck Avenger is back for the first time in a decade. He has no idea what happened to Launchpad or his family. 

Still, Drake has his priorities. 

He drops Gizmoduck, allowing him to sprawl backward on the ground. 


End file.
